Mary Ellen was in the middle of frosting cupcakes, a large cup of sweet tea close by. “Has the Duchess made her selection?”
“No.” Charlotte sighed, pulling open the refrigerator to retrieve fresh samples. “And they’ve moved the ceremony to next week.”
Mary Ellen stopped in the middle of a rosette, her mouth hanging open. “I thought it was in August?”
Charlotte headed to the storage room. She switched on the light and put her hand to her chest as she surveyed the floor. It was strewn with shards of napkins.
“What on earth?” She bent down to examine the damage but could find any clues as to what had made the mess. She rubbed at her forehead and then hunted for a bag of napkins that hadn’t been hit. Thankfully, she found one.
Napkins in hand, Charlotte headed back to Mary Ellen. “They’re taking an extra month to go to Cancun.”
“Must be nice,” Mary Ellen grumbled.
“It’s not like a couple of months was much time anyway. It won’t make that much of a difference for me.” Charlotte tried to console herself as she tucked the napkins under her arm so she could carry the cake samples.
The truth was, it would make a difference. It was the middle of June, prime wedding season. Charlotte wasn’t sure how she was going to work Coco’s mammoth of a cake into her lineup. If Coco ever did decide on a cake, that is.
But she’d overbooked herself before and had gotten through it. Never saying no to a client was a tradition as old as the bakery itself. Charlotte's father used to talk about breaking her Grandpa’s, and even her Great Grandpa’s records, and now she was part of the tradition. There were annual sales records for doughnuts, loaves of their famous apple cinnamon bread, and of course, wedding cakes. She still hadn’t broken her father’s record for wedding cakes, but she tried every year. That man had been a machine. Although she’d broken his doughnut record her first year as sole owner. Charlotte had channeled her grief over his loss into her work.
Charlotte made her way to the front, taking in the sight of Coco chatting into her cell phone. Armed with cake, she hoped it was enough to entice Coco back down to business.
***
“You’d better tell me how it goes tonight,” Mary Ellen said, sweet tea in hand as she paused at the door.
“What?” Charlotte asked around a spoonful of peach pie doughnut batter.
Mary Ellen’s chin fell as her eyebrows rose. “Your date.”
“Oh, sugar-”
“Beets,” Mary Ellen finished for her.
Charlotte looked at the clock. She’d been behind all day thanks to her scattered brain and Coco. It was a quarter past six. She grabbed the batter and tossed it in the fridge.
“Don’t forget the heels,” Mary Ellen said as she left. “Your legs are made for them.”
Charlotte hurried out the door a few minutes later. She had to make it home and back in less than forty-five minutes. At least it didn’t leave any time for her to be nervous.
Chapter 4
Gabe pulled up to Sugar Cove bakery at seven, taking in the familiar surroundings. It had the same sign he'd remembered as a boy. The one he always looked forward to seeing when his mother would reluctantly agree to his prodding to get a fresh doughnut. Charlotte had changed the exterior color from plain white to a sunny pastel yellow. It went well with the beach theme that many of the shops on Main Street had. The sign over the door remained the same solid deep blue background with white lettering. Two planter boxes had been added under each front window. Both were overflowing with yellow and blue flowers.
Gabe wondered what his mom would have thought of Charlotte. His memories of her were old and muddled. He remembered her having to work nights and weekends as a chef in town. She would come home late, but she would sneak into his room to give him a kiss goodnight while he was sleeping. Or at least he was supposed to be sleeping. He'd remembered her always smiling and singing along with the radio.
Seeing movement inside the bakery, Gabe got out of his car and walked to the door. He put a hand over his eyes to block out the glare of the fading sun so he could peer in. Charlotte stood near the front counter, rubbing her ankle.
She looked up and saw him. She was quick to come to the door and open it for him.
“Hi,” Charlotte said, smiling carefully.
Gabe smiled, some amusement lighting his eyes. “Did you hurt your leg?”
Her smile grew as she replied, “I rolled it a bit I’m afraid.”
A hint of concern crept across Gabe's face. “Are you okay?”
“Yes, yes,” she said quickly. “I’m fine.”
“Okay.” He held the door open for her.
Charlotte stepped through the threshold and locked the door behind them. Gabe watched her expectantly, as if he was checking to see if she could walk normally. When he was satisfied she was really okay, he fell into step beside her.
“You look beautiful,” Gabe muttered.
It wasn’t just a line. Gabe thought Charlotte was lovely. She was wearing a black dress that was cut just above her knees, with a wide neckline that showed off her neck and collar bones. Her curly brown hair was loose, framing her face.
“Thank you,” she replied, slightly blushing. “You look great too.”
He did look great. Gabe was wearing a royal blue button down shirt that brought out the color of his eyes. His dark hair was swept across his forehead, looking soft enough to reach out and touch.
He held the car door for her, and she slid into the seat, surprised at herself. Had she really just thought about touching his hair?
As Gabe walked around the front of the car, Charlotte reminded herself to breathe. When did dating become this nerve-wracking? Was it always this way and she just didn’t remember?
Charlotte had worn her little black dress. Mary Ellen’s comment that Gabe would take her somewhere fancy had played in her mind when she'd picked it. Unfortunately, she’d also taken Mary Ellen’s advice to wear heels. It’d been ages since Charlotte had worn anything besides her comfortable bakery shoes, and she was regretting choosing something so ambitious. She felt like a tightrope walker. Just when she thought she was getting the hang of them, she’d rolled her ankle on the way to go greet Gabe.
Why do people wear these things anyway? she thought.
Charlotte pulled the skirt of her dress down, reminding herself to stop fidgeting. She couldn’t remember the last time she had been so nervous. Being the planner that she was, Charlotte decided to make some mental to-do lists to try to calm her nerves. Planning always focused her and was oddly comforting. It helped her feel more in control.
Gabe got in the car next to her just as she was thinking about when to fit in baking the peach pie doughnuts.
“Do you like seafood?” he asked as he started the car and pulled out of the little parking lot.
“Love it,” Charlotte replied, her mind instantly trying to figure out where he was taking her. There was a chic seafood restaurant on the other side of town. The thought made her nervous.
Gabe smiled. “Great.”
Charlotte cleared her throat. “So Mary Ellen told me you’re a food writer.”
“Yes. I'm based in Chicago, but I primarily write travel pieces.”
“Chicago? You must enjoy a good hotdog.” The second it was out of her mouth, Charlotte felt herself blush. You must enjoy a good hotdog?
Gabe hadn’t noticed her reaction and answered, “Of course. You can’t beat a good Chicago dog.”
Though he’d recovered the conversation, Charlotte decided to go back to making to-do lists in her head so that she didn’t make any more stupid comments.
“I noticed your doughnuts are a little lighter than your father’s.”
A smile flit across Charlotte’s face before she stared back out over the hood of the car.
“Yes, I tweaked the recipe a little.” She reminded herself to update the spreadsheet she used to keep track of how many doughnuts of each kind she'd sold. She’d have to add peach
pie to the list.
Gabe glanced at her, and then looked back to the road. “I love the texture. It goes so well with the density of the filling.”
“Oh, thank you,” Charlotte responded. The compliment threw her off, and when she couldn’t think of something to say back, she went back to the peach pie doughnuts in her mind. Should she put them out next week? Probably the sooner, the better. It was already well into summer. She had to make sure she didn’t forget to start Coco’s cake tomorrow.
Gabe shifted in his seat, wondering if he’d done something wrong to make Charlotte suddenly so quiet. She seemed distracted. He was trying his best to hide his nervousness. Gabe strained to think of something else to talk about other than Charlotte's doughnuts.
“So is the lemon crème your recipe? I don’t remember seeing it before.”
Charlotte tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “Yes, it’s mine. It’s an adaptation of a cake I tasted across town.”
Gabe was encouraged that she’d said more than a handful of words. “Very creative.” He grinned.
Charlotte caught some of his energy from his smile and found herself smiling back, the busy thoughts of her calendar fading in her mind some. “Yes, well, it was a fantastic cake, but I knew it’d be better as a doughnut.”
Gabe chuckled.
Charlotte looked up to see them pulling into the parking lot of the seaside fish market. She was pleasantly surprised.
“I figured this is the next best thing to catching our meal.”
Her face brightened. “It’s a great idea.”
“Thank you,” Gabe answered, pleased that she appreciated the thought.
They got out of the car, and Charlotte was instantly reminded of her mistake to wear heels. She almost rolled her ankle again but managed to catch herself against the car. Thankfully, Gabe hadn’t noticed. It took some concentration to walk normally. She looked up to see Gabe standing in front of her, holding out his arm. The gesture made her smile. She accepted his arm and they walked around the market, taking in all the bustle around them.
Boats lined the docks, their nets hanging down like veils. Seagulls chased after the boats returning to the harbor, diving and swooping just at the surface of the water to catch the leftover chum the fishermen were throwing overboard. The whole place smelled of fresh fish and saltwater.
A sudden splash just by Charlotte’s ankle made her jump. If it weren't for Gabe, she would’ve fallen over. Both of them laughed as they looked to what had caused Charlotte to startle so badly. A plastic bin just outside a wholesale seafood store was filled with one enormous fish.
“Can’t get any fresher than that,” Gabe said with a laugh.
Charlotte agreed.
Gabe held the door open for Charlotte, and they went inside the store. Once inside, Charlotte was overwhelmed with the dizzying amount of fish. There were fish in tanks, fish on ice, and fish mounted on the walls. Besides fish, there was shrimp, lobster, and even clams.
Gabe inhaled deeply and then looked at Charlotte. “What sounds good? I thought I’d go for red snapper myself.”
Charlotte looked at all the choices. “That sounds good to me.”
“Alright then.” Gabe went up to the counter and ordered their dinner.
Charlotte began to wonder where they were going to eat it.
As if reading her mind, Gabe said, “I know of a place that will cook this up for us. It’s right by the water.”
“That sounds lovely,” Charlotte said.
As they walked back to the car, Gabe carried the brown paper wrapped fish in one arm and held Charlotte’s hand with his other.
“I used to come here all the time as a kid,” Gabe said.
“Really?” Charlotte asked.
“Yes. My grandmother would let me pick what I wanted for dinner from the wholesale shop. Then after dinner, we’d go to your bakery.” He paused to smile at her and then looked out in front of him with nostalgia in his eyes. “Those were some of my fondest memories.”
“I didn’t realize you grew up here in Sugar Cove.”
“I did when I was young,” Gabe answered, “but I used to visit my grandmother in the summers even after I moved away.”
“Who’s your grandmother?”
“Alice Ryan.”
“Oh, Alice.” Charlotte could picture the red haired old woman with the bright blue eyes. She looked at Gabe’s face with this new information. Now she realized how similar he was to her.
“Yes, I have her eyes,” Gabe stated. "Or so I've been told."
Charlotte blushed, feeling as though he’d read her mind again. “You do. And that’s a good thing.” And it was. Alice Ryan was one of her best customers and well liked around town. Probably part of her popularity was because she enjoyed bringing people doughnuts. Charlotte knew she got dialysis on a regular basis and she was always talking about how she brought her nurses a box of doughnuts as often as she could. When she’d told Charlotte that, she’d winked and confided that the nurses were always extra careful not to stick her twice.
They arrived at the car, and Gabe opened Charlotte's door for her. “I’ve been told that I have more than her eyes. My father said I have her stubbornness too. I think that’s why he used to send me away every summer.”
Charlotte laughed.
Chapter 5
The gentle lull of the ocean provided a soothing backdrop, mixing with the easy music that floated to them from the stage. A bass player, pianist, and saxophonist played an endless stream of soft jazz.
Charlotte was thankful for a much-needed break from wrestling the stilts strapped to her feet.
“This is perfect,” she found herself saying as she looked out over the water.
“One of my favorite places in the world,” Gabe said.
Charlotte smiled at him and sipped her wine. Sitting directly across from Gabe made it harder to distract herself with her running to-do lists. But she was still nervous. She ran her finger along the bottom of her wine glass, wondering exactly when she’d lost the ability to converse with another human being.
Gabe watched her for a moment, noting the tension in her shoulders. He could see that she was on edge.
“You know, I think my all-time worst review I had to write up was a seafood place.”
Charlotte looked up, intrigued. “Worst as in it was a bad review, or it was hard to write?”
“It was a bad review.” Gabe swirled the wine in his glass as he smirked. “Their fried fish was all fry and no fish."
Charlotte laughed, surprised by his sense of humor. Where the ocean, the music, and the wine had started their job, the joke had been the final piece to help her unwind. She felt herself begin to relax.
The waiter brought out their fish and carefully set it on the table in front of them. He topped off their wine glasses and disappeared.
“I used to pick this place for my birthday dinners,” Charlotte said.
Gabe returned her smile. “Oh yeah?”
“Yeah. My dad would let me pick anywhere I wanted, and I always chose here. They let him bring the cake too.”
“Did he make it?”
“Mm-hm,” she said after taking a bite of fish. She looked at the familiar surroundings, remembering how her father used to request a table by the water. “I do miss that man,” she sighed. “He made the best cakes.”
“What kind of cake did you request?”
Charlotte smiled at the question and held Gabe’s gaze. “Always chocolate with strawberry filling.”
“That sounds exquisite.”
“It was,” she agreed. “I can never get my strawberry filling to come out like his. Every now and again I still try.”
“I think about my mom every day,” Gabe said.
Charlotte looked up. “You lost your mom?”
He nodded as he wiped his mouth with a napkin. “I was eight. She died in a car accident. That’s when I moved to Chicago.”
“I’m sorry,” she said gently.
“It was
hard,” he said as he looked at his plate. Then he looked up with a smile. “We used to love going to your father’s bakery.”
“Yeah?”
His smile widened. “Yes. I used to get a chocolate crème doughnut every time. She would get glazed doughnut holes and coffee.”
“He made killer coffee too.”
Gabe took a sip of wine. “Your father was an excellent baker. That is for sure.”
“Speaking of baking,” Charlotte said as she delicately gathered a mouthful of rice on her fork. “I have a new recipe to try out and I’ve been wondering when I’ll be able to fit it in tomorrow. Do you want to try it out with me tonight?”
“I’d love to,” Gabe said.
Charlotte smiled, already looking forward to sharing the experience of a new flavor with Gabe.
They chatted easily after that to the sound of the waves and mellow jazz.
Chapter 6
Charlotte unlocked the front door of the bakery, the familiar, warm scents greeting her. She loved the way it smelled. Though it had been a while since she’d lost her father, sometimes she would still get a vivid flashback to when he was still alive when she first opened the door to the bakery.
“Come on in,” she said softly, stepping aside so Gabe could come in. She locked the door behind them.
Gabe looked around, taking in the immaculate surroundings. The trays that normally held doughnuts, bagels, bread, and muffins stood empty.
“Come on back,” she encouraged him as she set her keys on the counter.
Gabe smiled and followed her.
She flicked on the light and went to wash her hands. She took out some dough from the fridge. The dough would have to warm up to room temperature before she baked it.
Charlotte looked over at Gabe to ask him to hand her a measuring cup but instead smiled when she caught him looking at her.
Gabe played it off with a smile and then asked, “So what are we making?”
“Peach pie doughnuts.”
Her Sweet Affair: The Brides Of Sugar Cove Page 2
